Separate Paths
by Batsutousai
Summary: It was strange how a day that should have been one of celebration, just made Roy want to throw up.


**Title:** _Separate Paths_  
 **Fandom:** _Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood_ /manga  
 **Author:** Batsutousai  
 **Rating:** Teen  
 **Pairings:** Maes Hughes  & Roy Mustang, Gracia/Maes Hughes  
 **Warnings:** Suggestion of alcoholism  
 **Summary:** It was strange how a day that should have been one of celebration, just made Roy want to throw up.

 **Disclaim Her:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Arakawa Hiromu and various publishers. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

 **A/N:** For day 2 of Hyuroi Week on tumblr. Today's prompt is _Photograph_.  
The attached image (the fic's cover image at FFN, and at the end of the fic everywhere else) is the cover image for chapter 16 of the manga, which is also where the title comes from.

This is marked as platonic, but I headcanon Roy having a crush on Maes, which Maes may or may not know about, and hints of that totally slipped in, so please feel free to headcanon their relationship however you please. :P

Unedited. I'll come back and fix any errors once things calm down for me this autumn.

You can also read this at Archive of Our Own, tumblr, or LiveJournal.

-0-  
-0-

It was strange how a day that should have been one of celebration, just made Roy want to throw up.

"So serious!" Maes called, clapping him on the shoulder. His new medals gleamed in the relentless sunlight. "You can at least allow yourself a _small_ smile, _Lieutenant Colonel_."

Roy wasn't certain what he hated more, Maes' unflagging cheerfulness, or the sky for being so clear and blue.

"It's hardly the promotion you're making it out to be," Roy replied flatly. "A transfer out east is as good as a demotion." Not to mention being the absolute last thing his psyche needed; he had nightmares enough without being on Ishval's doorstep.

Maes let out a gusty sigh right into his ear, and Roy shot him a cross look, only to get another gusty sigh in the face, this one smelling strongly of the garlic Maes must have had for lunch.

" _Hughes_!" he snapped, shoving his best friend out of his personal space, because that was the only way to get the irritant to let go of him.

Maes just grinned at him as he made a show of dusting off his formal uniform. The sword at his side looked out of place on him, far more suited to fighting in the open, when Maes preferred creeping through shadows, but Roy knew he could use it. Maybe not _well_ , but they all suffered through fencing lessons as part of the academy.

"Take a picture with me," Maes said as he carefully fitted his hat back atop his head.

"No."

Maes sighed again, thankfully far enough away that Roy didn't need to consider the merits of using his own sword to stab him. (Even if it was still a tempting thought.) "The camera isn't going to steal your soul–"

"It's welcome to it," Roy muttered.

"–or whatever weird thing always has you dodging cameras," Maes continued, ignoring him with the ease of long practise. "It's just something to remember today with."

"I have no interest in remembering today," Roy returned flatly. "In fact, I think I'm going to go back to my flat and get spectacularly _drunk_. Care to join me?"

"I have a date with Gracia. Which you're invited to."

"Let me think about that for a moment. Get completely smashed with the scotch I borrowed–"

"Stole!" Maes corrected cheerfully.

" _Borrowed_ ," Roy insisted, even though, yeah, he had no intention in returning the bottle, full or empty, "from the madam, or come play third wheel with you and princess charming?"

"You can always bring your own date?" Maes offered a bit helplessly.

"Do I _look_ in the mood for some clingy girl?" Or, well, extremely concerned quasi-sister/cousin, which was _worse_. Especially since they'd tell his aunt he was being morose again and she'd come over to give him hell.

Maes made a show of rolling his eyes, then reached out and grabbed Roy's arm before he realised what was about to happen. "Well, _I_ want a photograph to remember today with, if only so I can stare at it mournfully while I suffer the long months of your–"

" _Fine_!" Roy snarled, trying to ignore the way his cheeks were warming.

"Wonderful! And then you can come out to dinner with us!" Maes said, clearly delighted, as he started pulling Roy along after him.

"Hughes–!" Roy started before deciding, really, it wasn't worth it; he'd get Gracia to excuse him, because the gods knew Maes wouldn't listen to anyone else.

It was a, thankfully, short walk to Gracia and Maes' little flat, and Maes nattered on the whole way about his current investigation into the origin of the mess hall's mystery meat. Which, well, Roy could never tell how legit these weird investigations Maes came up with were, but it at least won a faint smile from him.

Cue Maes crowing about his victory.

"Oh dear," Gracia said when they stepped through the door, and her sympathetic expression eased Roy's urge to punch his best friend in the nose. Mostly. "Hello, Roy. It's always a pleasure to see you."

Roy put on his best and most charming smile and took her hand. "The pleasure," he murmured, "is, as ever, all mine." Then he pressed a kiss to the back.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Maes shouted, separating their hands and stepping between them, one hand pushing firmly against Roy's chest. "Get your own, charmer. This one's mine."

"Really?" Roy returned, smirking and crossing his arms under Maes' hand. "I don't see a ring."

Gracia chuckled and leant up to kiss Maes' cheek, because this little game had played out one too many times for her to take it seriously, clearly. "I see you both got a promotion with your medals. Congratulations."

Roy was a little in awe of the way Maes beamed at Gracia and exclaimed over the awards; the reminder killed his own good mood, and it was far too much of an effort to keep up his smile. So he turned away and said, "I need a glass of water. And, don't worry, I haven't forgotten where the kitchen is."

Then he made his escape, ignoring the quiet concern in Gracia's voice as she quietly asked, "Maes?"

He did, in fact, get some water, leaning back against the worktop and staring down at the worn tile floor of the kitchen as he sipped at it. Getting his head screwed back on straight was a lost cause, but he could at least take the brief breather to shove some demons back into their boxes for a couple hours.

Neither Maes or Gracia came after him, and Roy knew he had Maes to thank for that; he'd always been good at knowing when Roy needed time to put himself back together, and when he was best served being inundated with stories about things like the origin of mystery meat.

Still, it would be cruel to repay the kindness by sneaking out the kitchen window, or refusing to have his photo taken, so Roy set the glass in the sink, took a deep breath, then squared his shoulders and walked back out to the other two.

Unsurprisingly, Maes beamed when he saw him and waved the accursed camera in his direction, saying, " _There_ you are! I was about to call the fire brigade."

"I'm not a kitten trapped in a tree, Hughes," Roy returned as flatly as humanly possible.

Maes' wide grin warned that he had a response in mind that Roy would have hated, but Gracia stepped in and took the camera from him. "Perhaps I should take that photo for you," she said with that easy smile that made it impossible to dislike her.

"Oh, right," Maes agreed, his smile turning far more fond than troublesome, and Roy shook his head in disbelief at her power. "Here, Roy, we can do it against this wall."

"Fine," Roy muttered, stepping over to join him.

"And at least _try_ to smile?"

"I thought this was supposed to be a memento to remind you of today."

"It is!"

"How would my smiling help that?"

Maes was silent for a moment too long, and Gracia's laugh told Roy that he'd won that round. Not that he was going to look; he had no interest in letting Maes win by smiling for the camera.

"Maes, darling," Gracia said at last.

Maes huffed. "Fine, have it your way, sourpuss."

It was an honest struggle to keep from rolling his eyes.

Maes – thankfully or not, Roy wasn't really certain – reverted to his photographer mode, giving directions so everything would be _perfect_ : "We'll have to stand a bit closer, the frame's pretty small at this distance, so you stand right here, like that, yes, and you're going to want to take off your hat, or it'll hide your face–"

"That would be bad...why?" Roy asked, even as he took off his hat and held it up against his side.

Gracia let out a quiet giggle.

"Really? You're trying to keep from showing off your ridiculously attractive face? Will wonders never cease."

" _Hughes_ ," Roy stressed, shooting him a glare.

Maes flashed him a grin. "Camera's over there."

"Suddenly," Roy muttered as he turned back to Gracia, "I'm seeing the pros in my transfer."

" _Ouch_ ," Maes complained, his chest warm against Roy's right arm.

Gracia shook her head at them. "Roy, am I taking one for you, too?"

" _No_ ," Roy insisted, even as Maes loudly sang, "Yes!"

Gracia hid behind the camera. "I'll take two and you can fight about it later," she decided. As if Maes couldn't just make a second copy from the negative.

(Roy silently bemoaned the amount of photography trivia he'd internalised over the course of their friendship.)

Gracia took two shots in rapid succession, looking rather pleased with herself when she was done.

Maes accepted the camera back with a kiss, then announced, "And now we can have that celebratory dinner!"

"Enjoy yourselves," Roy said flatly as he shoved his hat back on his head.

"Actually," Gracia called, very probably saving Roy from another one of Maes' attempts to make him have fun, "I'm not really feeling very well right now–"

"What?" Maes interrupted, sounding honestly freaked out, and Roy turned to shoot her a concerned frown as he continued, "Do we need to go to hospital? Or–"

Gracia gently covered Maes' mouth and smiled. "I'm just tired, dear, stop panicking. I do feel a little bad about ruining your plans, though. Roy, would you mind going out with him for me? Just this once?"

If this was a ploy, it wasn't one of Maes', at least, and Roy couldn't find it in himself to refuse Gracia's pleading look. So he sighed and muttered, " _Fine_. But _not_ my place," he added, frowning at Maes.

Maes cast Gracia one last concerned look, but nodded at her reassuring smile, then turned to smile at Roy. "It's a celebratory _dinner_ , Roy. Not a drinking contest."

Roy resisted the urge to ask why it couldn't be both – he knew Maes wasn't fond of his drinking habit – and stood through Maes and Gracia's goodbye kiss without complaining, which was something far more deserving of a medal than the blood on his hands, as far as he was concerned.

"Thank you, Roy," Gracia said as she leant up to kiss his cheek.

"Don't thank me yet," Roy suggested. "I still might kill him for the sake of my sanity."

She laughed, clearly not taking him seriously, and shooed them out the door.

Dinner ended up being weirdly pleasant, as it turned out, with Maes only threatening to run up the military's phone bill by ringing him five times a day twice, and Roy managing to limit his alcohol consumption to one glass of wine.

As far as send-off dinners went, that had been a good one.

And when Roy found a copy of the photo in his luggage while he was unpacking in East City, he shook his head in disbelief at Maes' magic tricks – he'd _sworn_ he'd checked everywhere after Maes' last minute visit – and found somewhere to put it out.

And then he rang Maes and spent an hour complaining about the train ride and how hard horrible the air smelled and a dozen other things. Neither of them mentioned the photo, but both of them knew that was the real reason he'd called.

.


End file.
